Mirthless
by UnderCollie
Summary: Copyright goes to Kouga Yun, author of Loveless, for any technique, the basic ideas, and some characters presented. For once, this'll be an ongoing thing until it seems fitting to end it... so here you go! My own and FOXILA444's OC' s for Loveless, the Sacrifice and Fighter Pair: Mithless. Two unhappy bits of humanity that come together at the "end". Read on for me, my sweet!
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: Suicide**

He seemed fairly tall for his age, but his clothes where too big for him. the grey turtleneck he wore would be slim fitting on others, but to him, it was baggy and loose. He wore white trousers and a woven brown leather belt, along with knee-high brown leather boots, secured by three buckles. His trenchcoat was massive, and came to his ankles, the color of beige or a light tawny, and calico buttons would hold it closed should he button it...

But he wouldn't do so. not any longer.

As he ran through the trees and brambles, he missed sight of a root thanks to the long bangs in his eyes, and he tripped, before catching himself and bursting forward at a sprint.

After about a minute, he came to a stop and stood, staring dully ahead at the dimmed scene.

_I'm ready... _

Cobalt and silver hydrochloric eyes narrowed by his Japanese lineage, were not bright with youth, but rather gazed by angry, unrelenting unhappiness.

He was mirthless. Void of happiness. Without relief or a source of light in his 11 year old life.

_Mirthless indeed..._ He thought, reminded of the odd mark on his body reading that very word since birth.

His hands shook as he took a deep breath, and reached into his back pocket. A silver and cobalt blue pocket knife of intricate design he pulled out, and switched open, pressing the blade to his chest, over his heart...

A sharp ringing whistle pierced the boy's ears and brought him to his knees in a scream of frightened pain and anger at interruption.

_Somebody's here! Get away you ass! I want to die, can't you see that?!_

His thoughts suddenly came to a standstill, as he looked ahead of himself. The ringing noise had come to a cease, thankfully, but now a ravenette Italian girl about his age stared back at him from the floor, having tripped. A pistol lay just out of her reach, where it had fallen, and her grey eyes where wide and staring directly at him as she sobbed.

He felt his trembling ears twitch, and he crawled over to her. "That noise was terrible... it better not have been you," he hissed, now kneeling in front of her as she picked herself off the ground.

She too still had her ears and tail. her black ears, flecked with white shook in their own pained way, and at once the male, Osaka Naru, knew she had heard it too. her tail, slender and black with white rings like a tabby, flicked beneath her white dress, ditties some by the forest floor.

She stumbled a bit once she had stood up, but lunged for her gun the moment she'd seen the blade in his hand.

Osaka's gaze only slightly widened as he knelt there, gaze fixed on the young Italian as she pressed the cold muzzle of her pistol to his forehead.

He had come here to die... alone and unhappy since he had turned 5.

His parents had been killed, and his own home burned to the ground thereafter. He was tired of living on the streets, tired of having to deal with the kids at school and the trouble he went through just to live.

The rest of his family and ancestors were all dead and long gone... and he had nowhere to go.

He had nothing more to lose, and what he did have, he was willing to give up.

His cobalt-silver eyes slid shut and he leaned into the bared of the gun somewhat, feeling the Italian's hand tremble as it held the gun.

Suddenly, the shaking pistol was taken from his forehead, and he opened his eyes to find she had instead pressed the muzzle of the gun to her jaw, hold more steady as she held the gun on herself.

He could faintly sense her thoughts...

_No! I came to die... I won't have anyone's blood on my hands save for my own, even if he is willing to give up his life._

Willingly, she pulled the trigger, closing her eyes.

Expecting a loud bang and blood and bone to fly, Osaka twitched back.

Nothing.

Just the empty click of the gun's equally empty cartridge. Osaka allowed himself to open his eyes again and gaze wide-eyed at her.

She was in a panic, her breath coming fast and rugged as she dropped to the floor on her knees, checking the gun for the magazine of bullets it had apparently held. With the realization of missing bullets, she began searching on her hands and knees for the bullets.

Osaka looked around the area, usually able to pick out what others could not, but was unable to see the bullets if they where there at all.

"They're gone, girl... I have my knife, still. We can still die," he rasped, flicking the blade out from his knife again. She briefly halted her search and stared at him, grey eyes wide and tear-filled.

A few seconds passed, and she made up her mind to go with what she could. Crawling to him on her hands and knees, uncaring of her white dress, she knelt in front of him, before freezing stiff, and widening her eyes in disbelief.

She looked down, bringing up a shaking hand, clutching a single bullet in her fingers. She flushed and sighed, filling her pistol's cartridge with fumbling hands.

_Fweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeem_

Against, the sharp ringing sound eliminated, piercing both their ears. Osaka fell forward, dropping his blade and trembling in pain as he held his skull. it felt like his head was going to split if the noise went on...

What was even more remarkable about it, was that this time it had taken a bloodthirsty tone, despite it's new, dead seeming sound.

He heard a faint sob of pain from the girl, but as soon as it had started, it stopped.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: A Warning and Reason**

Osaka trembled as he held his hands over his blue-grey ears. The sound had stopped, and the pain subsided...

But now he was unsure.

Hesitantly, he raised his head to look at the Italian girl, and grabbed at his knife, before crawling to her side. If he had reason to live, and if she had any as well, he admitted he'd gladly date her.

The thought passed, and he again focused.

"You _had_ to have heard that too... what was it?"

She gave no answer, but simply held the hilt of her gun tighter, twin streams streaking her face. Similarly, he too was in tears. They had come to this place in order to die. They had come to give rest to their useless lives... And had been interrupted by such a terribly maddening sound that made no sense.

"_Oi! Answer to me!_" he spat, teeth bared in frustration. Behind him, his feathery grey tail lashed across the grass and soil. Atop his pale silvery-green head, his ears where pulled forwards.

"I don't _know_. Go away," she finally replied, rebounding enough to glare at him dead in the eyes. Her ears flattened in an instant, and her pale hand raised as if to slap him. Osaka could only eye it as it came towards him, but just as quickly was stopped.

Both their eyes widened, and their faces went sheet-white. Grasping her wrist was the hand of an older male, perhaps in High School at the moment.

Looking up, Osaka found the male to be Japanese, like himself, and with wavy, pure white hair that fell to his shoulders and framed his face in an M-shape by means of his bangs. His face was particularly rounded at the cheeks for being male, but he had a distinctive face, and an almost dead expression that clung to it. The male's eyes were a pale grey in color, almost a translucent blue.

_Pseudoalbino?_

The silverette seemed to emphasize on his oddity by wearing a white shirt and white trousers that where continued in jet black just below the knees, and black and white sneakers donned his feet. Over his shirt, he wore a jet black coat lined with dark grey fur. And again, like the Italian, he had his ears and tail still; his ears where pure white and stood rather tall while his tail was long and somewhat thick, more like a puma's than the typical house cat's, reaching to his lower calves.

It was a striking appearance. What was even more striking, was his words.

"That sound, the second one, was me. The first one, my friend, was you and your Sacrifice's."

"What do you mean?" The Italian chirped, jerking her hand away. It was to no avail, for the older virgin held strong. She struggled against the iron grip on her wrist for a few moment, growling with the effort. Osaka didn't blame her. It made no sense. None at all.

"You are a Sacrifice... a _Gisei_. The lead in a pairing like yourselves. He," the silverette nodded in Osaka's own direction now. "Is your Fighter. your _Sentouki._"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: The Beginning of the End**

The suicidal pair looked at one another, stunned. Clearly, the question of fate rose in their eyes, but neither Osaka nor the Italian would ask.

...Not that they had to, for the silverette continued on, when their blank stared came back into focus on him

"See? There you go, get a good look at your life partner - not by choice, but Fate. No, you won't have to marry each other nor become lovers, but you will build relations."

He paused, ears flicking at something unheard.

"A necessary evil, I suppose. Now, I figure you'll both deny me until known for yourself, so here -" he twisted a bit, and placed an envelope on the hand of the supposed Sacrifice, and the other envelope into Osaka's trembling hand. For a moment all was silent, and the hand poised to strike from the girl seemed to go lax and tremble, barely holding the letter.

"-are your invitations, so to speak. Good luck... and oh, I'm Kuro... ironic right?... good. You'll know me as the Fighter for Lifeless... Now, go back home and read those two letters."

His fingers released the Italian at length, and he pulled away, before promptly leaving the two as they had been.

Osaka's ears perked as he looked at the letter, narrow eyes widening some. Past the letter held before his face, he gazed at his supposed Sacrifice.

Her eyes met his, but they said nothing further. Not for some time at least...

"What's your name, boy?"

The Italian's Japanese was still remarkable to the native as she spoke. But as her gaze turned somewhat cold, he gave his reply.

"Naru Osaka. Call me by my family name, please; Naru."

The girl nodded before hesitantly giving her own name, "Lumina Fiorre."

By four o'clock that evening, Osaka was back at his home... There wasn't much there. Only recently had he found shelter in an unused, small warehouse.

He knew it wouldn't last... but he had to make it work. Exspecially after living another day.

He quietly slid into his old blankets and comforter, wrapping them around his thin form. For a moment, he stared at the envelope... and in another, he had cut open the paper that enclosed it.

With a hand shaking from agitation and fatigue, the pale green haired male pulled out the folded papers, three in all... and then the included train tickets. He gazed at the two tickets, eyes flickering. They weren't fabricated... and they entailed the date and time they would be in use.

As well as his own name and the Italian's as well.

He blinked a couple times, and set the tickets down, replacing them before his heterochromic eyes with the three sheets of paper. The first was a written letter of a neat hand. It told again how someone was extremely pleased upon Mirthless' unification, and went on to explain that the harsh ringing sound they'd probably heard upon meeting was a triggered response to one another's presence for the first time.

It then went on to explain in brief the role of a Sacrifice. That a gisei in a Unit takes the damage in a Spell Battle and issuing orders to their Fighter.

At length, it went on to explain Osaka's own role, as a Fighter, or Sentouki. A Fighter is the term given to the person in a Unit who takes on the role of spell-casting in a Spell Battle. Their counterpart is the Sacrifice. Fighters control offense and defense in a Spell Battle with their Spells and are expected to follow the commands of their Sacrifice. Fighters have been seen battling by themselves but this is considered somewhat taboo, and dishonorable the bond within the Unit. As well as how it is also considered taboo for Sacrifices and Fighters sharing different names to battle as a Unit. The roles of Sacrifice and Fighter are immutable and cannot be interchanged, nor can it be chosen who acts as which...

The letter then stated that it will be further taught and demonstrated soon to the newly bonded Unit that was Mirthless.

He found it a bit peculiar that they were being treated as one, and yet had barely met each other... And yet the writer seemed to know this already.

He sighed, and read the Invitational letter, stating an address, date, and time for what was called Septimal Moon, and a reference to a the teachings that would be held there. Again, Osaka found them addressing he and Lumina as Mirthless.

It got him wondering, considering the marks across his belly, which read that very word since his birth. Had the Italian shared the same mark?

According to the papers she more than likely did. In the same place, even.

His eyes narrowed, and his ears flattened. The papers. They seemed legit, but where they really?

The last of the three papers was a written piece by Kuro, the silverette from earlier, whom had called himself part of Lifeless.

_Fighter to Fighter, I regard you as a friend, a little brother, and a healthy rival. I hope to find you at Goura soon, and perhaps help you in your training. From my perspective, you are lost... but in your lost state, you have stumbled upon reason in which to continue, even if at first it seemed surreal - your Sacrifice. Your Gisei._

_How peculiar your fated partner is from another country... but that is special in its own way. Good luck, and see you soon, Mirthless._


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four: Locomotives**

Osaka's ears flattened against the halting train's shrill cry against the tracks. It was not ad bad as when he came into contact with other Units, or when it felt like the girl, Lumina, was calling him.

He only knew this because of the encounter that day. However, here and there he'd felt a pull to go somewhere, coaxed on by a noise only he could hear. But it was always an angry sorrow that the sound carried. A need and hate for happiness that would never come. Osaka took this as the "signature" of him and Lumina's... Call.

But he never found her. It was always gone before he could track it. Once when he had, he'd gotten lost and it took a whole day to get back to his own little warehouse.

As he stood waiting for the announcement of their train's arrival and boarding, he half wondered if the Italian would show while pondering what exactly he was doing there at all. The letter in his pocket, where which his hand was also buried, served as a reminder, and the strange reality kept coming to focus.

_Lumina. Where are you? Are you here?_

His thoughts rang clear in his own mind, but he could scarcely believe his Gisei would hear them as he'd heard hers... It vanished an instant later when a hand spun him around by the shoulder, and he stood face to face with the Italian he was the Fighter of.

"I'm right here, Naru-san. Don't get yourself in a rut," she huffed, crossing her arms over her still-developing chest.

A sort of short lived relief found the male, and his ears perked a bit. "All right, all right... I've ... I've got the tickets," he murmured in reply, giving a little bow of hello, which she returned.

She wore a grey sweater with black horizontal stripes, and a white pair of jeans. A simple, clean look. Better than his own, which hadn't changed, save that it was newly washed. as he finally looked to meet her gaze again, she gave a dry ghost of a smile, and gestured to the platform.

Understanding, he led them to their boarding platform and handed the tickets to the man whom required them. A quick glance at the two from the ticket-master, and they where waved on board. Inside was spacious enough, and they sat side by side, at first in awkward silence.

The quiet became easier as the train lurched forward, but not until halfway there did the two speak at all. Mostly about the dream-like surrealistic view of their situation... how odd it was to be thrown into it, simply by a mark they both shared apparently. Having been born for one another, as the Seven Moons academy had put it.

The train moved on. The conversation died.

Osaka was left staring at his lap, and Lumina was of no different state until they fell asleep. The train continued on; the two in their unconscious state gradually came together, unaware. Within the next hour, they where close together, leaning on another, into one another. Lumina's head pressed into the curve of Osaka's neck, while Osaka himself rests his skull against Lumina's own.

**Author's Note: Here you go, guy's fourth Chapter is up! Revised a bit from on Wattpad... finally up, though. Look out for Chapter Five. That'll be up before this weekend ends! Enjoy, even if it's short. **


End file.
